Monthly Archives: December 2010
Where do all the odd socks go?
I’m convinced that my washing machine and dryer are in cahoots and have a little scheme going to drive me clinically crazy. I’m sure I’m not alone and that there are tons of overworked moms out there wondering the exact same thing as me – where do all the odd socks go?
I’ve reached a point now where I’ve stopped trying to be perfect. In fact, it’s become so bad that now my poor husband’s top drawer is like a mini lost property bin, teaming at the brim and struggling to shut as a result of being stuffed so tightly with black, navy, faded black, almost black, once was black and new black, partnerless socks. Now I don’t even bother trying to find the partners to any of the socks unless they have matching, easy-to-find Buzz Lightyear / baby Gap / Lacoste motifs, failing which, I hope that the odd socks will one day be returned to their original partners later on in life, perhaps in some sort of sock heaven, probably in a warm patch behind the tumble dryer, or some other place in the world where all the odd socks end up in the end.
Sadly, I don’t think we will ever solve the mystery of where all the odd socks go. However, I do hope that wherever the odd socks end up, let’s hope that all those hours and hours of wasing, hanging up, drying, taking down, folding, sorting and packing away were worth it in the end. Finally my hope is that the 20 or so odd socks lined up on death row on the mantle piece in front of my TV will one day either get worn again or put out of their misery being chucked away, relentlessly or mercifully – by accident, now that would cut down a bit of laundry time!
When a slab of chocolate is not enough
Loyal followers, please please forgive me for my month-long blog hiatus. Trust me I have been dying to post new posts for absolute ages but both babies were sick for a while (Jonny bear for the first time ever, bless him) so you can understand that I had to give my full attention to the little guys – without whom I would have absolutely no reason to have a blog in the first place.
I have loads of new material that I can’t wait to share – but for now it’s just a matter of having the time to get it all down and favouring writing over sleeping – I’ll sleep when I’m dead, right? After all, if there’s no me, then who would take responsibility for the boys?
After 3 tiring years of child-rearing ‘Sunnymommy’ style, my fabulous husband has finally cottoned on that a slab of chocolate simply is not enough and that after 15 full months of doing it tough, he’s granted me a well-deserved sabbatical and has booked me into a hotel ON MY OWN for 4 glorious nights of rest and relaxation. The red flag for this break came when every stranger that I have encountered over the past week asked me why I’m so anxious and stressed. When strangers are worried about you, then you know that you’re pretty close to going off the edge and that no amount of chocolate is going to get you right.
Heaven knows what I can get up to on my own for this long. At first, I was worried that I would be overcome by guilt, but I am sure that emotion will be washed over once I get used to going to the loo on my own, soaking in the tub for a while, luxuriating in my robe and slippers, sipping on a chocolatte on the balcony and blow-drying my hair instead of letting it drip-dry like a shaggy dog (as usual)! A big shout out must go to my amazing mom for taking care of the babies for me over the weekend. I reckon after this weekend my nearest and dearest will gain a small understanding as to why I am like a stealth-hunter-pyscho-assassin on high-alert all day and night long. I am beyond lucky, because I know there are hundreds of saturated moms out there who never ever get a break – I don’t know how they don’t crack under the pressure, because I think if I don’t have this break now I am likely to crack in a serious way – so this break was more of a mental time out as opposed to a selfish, laze-fuled junket. But I definitely do spare a thought for those selfless moms who aren’t as lucky as me to have treat like this thrown there way – I know I beyond blessed for this break!
Enough pysho-anal-lyzing for now – I’m off to treat myself to some lunch and a spot of shopping and maybe a few cocktails before I go lie round the pool. xxx
Developmental milestones of a 31 year old, a 33 month old and a 15 month old
Whilst, turning 31 today is really neither here nor there in terms of landmark ages in a person’s life, I think I personally have a lot to be greatful for over the past 3.1 decades.
From a developmental milestone perspective I think I can tick all my life goals-boxes to date (but for the fact that I am so not supposed to still be getting pimples at this ripe old age of 31 – just can figure this one out!) I have established a career as a young lawyer (albeit that its been put on hold on and off for the past 3 years). I’ve got a nearly 7 year-old marriage under my belt. I’ve had two G-d sent, natural births yielding two magnificent, baby boys. I’ve acquired some significant life experience and some annoying facial wrinkles, which bother me from time to time but not all the time. I still get asked for ID when I go out, which shows I have aged well (people tell me!) but then I get the retroverted respect a girl of my age deserves (and a rude awakening as well) when I get called “Madam” at the grocery store!
Moving on to the developmental milestones of my fabulous boys – which I will try not to map on to the textbook milestones that I used to obsess about with my firstborn but don’t really worry about too much anymore.
My big boy – WOW – I can’t believe he’s going to be 3 years old soon. That is so scary that my baby is becoming a pre-schooler in 1.5 months. He constantly surprises me with his naughtiness and unbounded energy. A truly unique character with an abundant sense of humour and connection with me. My little grown-up in a little boy’s body. He makes me melt when he says thinkgs like “Mommy, I can’t give you a hug, I too busy” or “There’s Daddy’s work (pointing to the office towers), but where’s Mommy’s work?” or “Mommy, I have such a big appetite!”. He handles my iPhone like a pro and loves helping round the house (he’s just started a new thing where he carries his plate to the kitchen, unpromted, after each snack or meal – amazing! So, even when he smashes plates and my favourite porcelain soap dish to smithereens and climbs on the top of the kitchen counter and absails off, I can never be cross with him for too long. Just please pray that he doesn’t burn the pre-school down on his first day. I’ve already notified the teaching staff that he’s quite a handful and that unless it’s life threatening I really must not be contacted by the school. Whild he may have regressed on the toilet training a bit lately and sometimes wakes up at night still, and might not be able to unpack his own lunch – at $12,000 per annum I think they are covered to deal with little handfuls, don’t you agree!
My little baby boy, my second born little darling child. Today is the first day since he was born that I haven’t breastfed him. I only stopped swaddling him a few months ago – poor guy – just after he turned 1. When I bath him it’s like wrestling a baby crocodile, he is incredible strong and agile, but not yet walking, but that’s OK. He’s been climbing up and down the stairs unaided for the past month or so. He has such an incredible vocabulary, which includes gems like “up, down, jumpy jumpy, tickle wickle, mommy, daddy, gagga, juan juan, babba, apple (which refers to all red fruits), bee (which refers to birds), bee ba (which refers to all cars and motorbikes), big car, hello (said while holding a phone to his ear), no no no (said while shaking head). All this at just 15 months and 2 weeks old. Another little genius that I’ve produced!
So I really don’t take much strain trying to go through the textbook developmental milestones any more. I’m much more proud of the personal milestones we’ve reached. Much more satisfying and not stressful at all!
The Real Housewife of Sydney
